


Vessel for None

by Wilde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha Michael, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Dean, Confused Dean, Healing, I've always wanted to use that tag, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, King Michael, Knight Castiel, M/M, Memories, No Wincest, Nostalgia, Older Sam, Omega Dean, Pining Castiel, Prince Dean, Promises, Protective Castiel, Protective Michael, Protective Sam Winchester, Runaway Dean, Top Castiel, Top Michael, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Younger Dean, bottom dean is the only dean for me, for this one anyway, hurting, well not directly related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilde/pseuds/Wilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was-<br/>A lost prince.<br/>A pining knight.<br/>A drunk king.</p><p>The royals met as children, quietly scorching themselves into each other's minds, inside a quiet room.<br/>Outside, there stood a young knight, praying that they finished soon, for he could no longer stand what went on behind those closed doors.</p><p>The Prince would always wander, lost in his dreams. They called him a dreamer.<br/>The Knight would always be there, at his beck and call. They called him a savior.<br/>The King would always remember, nostalgic of his sin. They called him a tyrant.</p><p>This is their story.</p><p>(This story has been dropped! I'm incredibly sorry to anyone who had been waiting for updates, but when I had begun writing it, I'd been awfully inexperienced. Meaning the first few chapters of this story are ridiculously cringe-worthy. I may rewrite it one day entirely from the beginning but at the moment nothing is certain.<br/>@My Dedicated Readers! Thank you very much for your feedback and I'm so sorry for disappointing you!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Premonitions from beyond the horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing... Well pretty much anything, honestly. Please be gentle with me! Feedback is very much appreciated. Any helpful criticizm is welcomed with open arms. Please do not hold back. I look forward to seeing how this story will progress! Please enjoy!
> 
> P.S. For this story, I've made Cas taller than Dean. He is also slightly older, and muscular ;)

"I simply do not see the point, Cas. Feelings will course in your veins, steady as the tides, and strong as its waves, but eventually, as all things, living or dead, they will come to an end. They will fly out of your heart, burst out of your chest, and flee from your mind. Perhaps, it will leave a mark, settle down in the corners of your existence, gracing you with glimpses of the past, and cursing you with promises of what could-have-been, but in the end, they won’t do you any good. Leave it to humans to come up with such arbitrary emotions.” Dean laughed mirthlessly, looking at Castiel from over his shoulder. The sunset lighting illuminated his eyes, boasting their gorgeous hues.

“You may pray to your Gods as much as you please, but they will grant no mortal an everlasting romance. All our stories will end with heart-break, or death. So, to answer your question, Cas, the answer is no.

“Do I believe in love?  
I don’t think I do.”

At this, Castiel simply smiled, tight-lipped and downcast eyes, disappointment evident if unreasonable. A breeze flowed through the courtyard, gentle and chilly with the remnants of the concluding winter. Dean was kneeling on the ground, focused on a budding flower, staring with something akin to wonder, his lips slightly parted. His unwarranted awe at something so mundane was adorable and Castiel caught himself gawking at the boy, but frankly, he couldn’t help himself. 

Dean was unreasonably beautiful, and it wasn’t just his bias speaking for him. At the age of sixteen, the boy was already pure unadulterated charm and grace. His body was built like a sculpture, enticing to the bone. Sunkissed skin lay stretched across his muscular frame bearing freckles, numerous as the stars in the night sky. His face looked as if it had been carved from stone with high cheekbones, kissable full lips, and long lashes framing the most gorgeous pair of eyes that Castiel had even seen. The famous kaleidoscope eyes. The eyes were storms of color. They were mixtures of tints and shades of green, grey, and flakes of gold. Everybody in the kingdom and beyond had heard about them. They were more than just pretty, they were works of art, goddamn miracles of nature. How could any mortal resist something so tempting? 

But Castiel held his ground. He had done so his entire life, and nothing was going to change now. With enormous effort and discipline, he tore his eyes away before Dean could notice. He excused himself from the Prince’s presence, knowing he had to cool his head. This was getting harder every day. Every second with Dean tore away at his self-restraint. More and more, he would find himself indulging in the Prince’s attention, his very presence. It wouldn’t be long before he cracked, and he knew he had to leave before he did something he would regret. 

Therefore, Castiel retired to his chambers. Tired, he decided to call it a day and head to bed. As he undressed, he viewed his reflection in the mirror. Not bad. Castiel had to admit, he was quite attractive. He had had his fair share of Omegas and Betas pining after him. His messy hair, intense electric-blue eyes, and tan skin, gave off a mysterious, adventurous aura. He was tall and muscular, which was a given, considering he was a knight. As dominant as they came, he was the very image of a traditional, powerful Alpha. Though, apparently, tall, dark, and handsome, just wasn’t enough to attract the one boy he wanted. The only boy he had ever wanted. 

Dean Winchester was an unobtainable, far-off dream, and Castiel knew that far too well. Still, he was allowed to fantasize, and for the past eleven years, Castiel’s mind had never been filled with anyone else. Dean would eventually present as an Alpha, everybody could already tell. He was unrelenting, the very opposite of an obedient little Omega. Castiel had prayed that Dean would atleast present as a Beta, but he knew it was in vain. Dean was Alpha, through and through, and even if he wasn’t, he would never reciprocate Castiel’s feelings.

Sighing, Castiel fell into his bed, letting the soft silk of his sheets coerce him into oblivion.

But there in oblivion, he was met with a boy who had the most stunning eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter. As I previously stated, feedback is much appreciated! I plan on updating regularly and the chapters should get progressively longer as well. Michael will be making an appearance shortly :). Thank you for your time!


	2. Imminent Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here is the second chapter! I'm actually quite surprised, and, frankly, pleased with the rate I am updating at. This chapter is also a bit longer. I ran into somewhat of a problem while uploading my first chapter. The date was wrong and so, instead of being at the top of the tags page, where it usually is when first uploaded, it was somewhere below. Not a lot of people saw it, I guess. Hopefully this time, I don't mess up, hehe. I have also run into a few issues in my writing which I will address in end notes. For now, please enjoy the chapter! ^_^

Nostalgia wafted through his open window, and Dean woke with his head filled with one of his favorite fragrances. Petrichor. Dean smiled. It had rained. 

The smell left in the departure of new rain is called Petrichor. The smell carried him back in time as easily as it had flown into his room, and Dean rode a breeze back through his memories, to the time when he had learnt this word, and the person who had taught it. 

==================================

"Scene II, Part 4," called a boy far too young to be bossing Dean around. 

"Enter Michael." 

The boy, Michael, jumped off of the chair he was standing on and proceeded to the center of the courtyard, where he was greeted by five children, including a less-than-happy Dean. Michael gave the pouting eight year old an annoyed look.

“What now, Dean?” he groaned.

Dean stared daggers his way, but this seemed to have no effect on the blue-eyed teen. “Dear Teacher,” he nearly spat, “I still fail see why it is necessary that I, a Prince, learn how to act.”

“As I have explained to you about a thousand times already, Dean,” Michael sighed, tiredly running a hand through his hair, “It is important for a Prince to be knowledgeable on an array of subjects and literature happens one of them. I was sure that you would prefer performing a play to sitting in some stuffy room inside the castle, being forced to memorize scripts, was I wrong?.” 

Dean wholeheartedly agreed with that statement. He wasn’t the type of person who could stand being confined indoors. He was a free spirit, after all. Still, there was no way he was going to admit that, not if it meant admitting he was wrong. Dean knew he was being insufferable, but that was the point.

“Not to mention, in areas such as politics, a little acting could take you a long way.” A chance! 

“Are you insinuating,” he started, voice filled with exaggerated indignance, “that I would ever use deceit to govern my people? How dare you! I would never trick my allies. This is a country of honest people, and we bear no need for such foolish skills. We, Winchesters, would never ev-”

“Prince Dean.” Dean stopped immediately, but his eyes blazed with fury at the audacity of this boy. Michael’s face, on the other hand, was a mask, and he continued in a patient voice, “The world of politics is not as simple as you think. Ruling is no simple task, and it is high time that you face reality. It is time for you to wake up and realize that in this world, deception is a must, whether it be for the better of the country, or to reach your own motives. Nobody is honest, humans are all liars.”

“You used your Alpha voice on me,” Dean said through gritted teeth. If looks could kill, Michael would have burst into flames by now.

Michael sighed. “That’s what you got from my lecture? Really?” He looked at the other children he had summoned, and for the most part they looked like they would rather be anywhere else, except for Gabriel, who looked like he was getting the dramatic play he had been promised.

“Dean, please,” Anna stepped forward looking a bit nervous, as if this wasn’t a daily occurrence. “Let’s all put aside our differences and just try and work together, okay? Prince Michael does not want to do this any more than you do.” She smiled at the rapidly-cooling eight year old. 

Anna knew Dean was a good child. She had grown up with him and considered him her younger brother, like Castiel. She knew that Dean did not take well with authority, and if he hadn’t liked Michael before he had met him, then by now... Maybe, if the older prince were a bit more compromising in his lessons, Dean would have warmed up to him, but no such luck. Both of these princes were royal pains in the ass.

Michael had already been here for a week now, and Dean had shown no sign of caving in. Not that Michael seemed to particularly care either. The eldest Prince of Collins had been sent to Winchester for a month to teach the younger Prince of Winchester how to behave like the nobility he was, at which Michael was failing completely. The purpose of this entire operation was to strengthen the bonds between the two countries, so Michael was not expected to actually tame the delinquent prince of the North to begin with. Dean was expected to spend the entire month under Michael’s care, doing nothing but being educated on how to behave like a proper prince, and that did not sit well with him. Dean valued his freedom above everything else, and suddenly it had been taken away from him. All because of Michael and his stupid visit.

When they had first met, Michael had been, frankly, shocked. The older prince had been expecting a crude ruffian, not a gorgeous, green-eyed beauty, but appearances could be deceptive, and Michael quickly learnt that even if Dean looked like a rose, he had thorns. Many, many, awful, sharp, excruciatingly agonizing thorns. He pricked away at Michael without mercy, icy and unfeeling, and Michael became numb. No matter what Michael did, he just could not get Dean to like him, and in just the span of a few days, the Prince of Winchester had rendered him completely apathetic. 

Dean had noticed the change in attitude, and he pretended not to notice the twinge of disappointment at the back of his mind. A week. Is that all the effort I’m worth? Well, I guess that’s longer than any of my other so-called teachers have lasted. I am the one at fault for hoping that he would be something different. Noticing that his mask had slipped, he quickly pulled on an angry expression. He laughed internally at the irony. He didn’t need acting lessons.

He’s been acting his whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it would seem I am incapable of maintaining a steady writing style. For some reason, I am easily influenced while I write, so, basically, my background music switching to a different genre could easily throw this story into fluff, or angst. I am currently trying to fix this, and am terribly sorry if it bothers you. I think I established a more natural style this chapter, at least compared to the last one. If you have any criticism, advice, or any other feedback, please do not hesitate to share! I hope you have enjoyed this chapter :) Please look forward to the next.


	3. The Icy Prince of the North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm quite pleased with this one :). I think I managed to make my characters sound like normal people for once. It's not very eventful, maybe just plain boring, but I promise that this will be the last chapter dedicated solely to setting up the story, and the next will be the last for back story. The rest of it, I will attempt to incorporate into the story naturally. Thank you to all the people keeping tabs on the story! I just hope I will be able to upload as regularly as I have been. Now, please sit back and enjoy the story!

Dean woke for a second time that day smiling. He wasn't sure when he had fallen back asleep, but there wasn't much work to be done today, so he would probably be excused for sleeping it. Plus, John Winchester was away on business, and wouldn't be back for another week, and Dean felt guilty at the relief that rushed through him at the realization. Dean sat up on his bed and looked out the window in his room. It had started to rain again. 

The young prince untangled his body from the blankets, and made his way towards the window. It was raining quite hard. Dean reached out with his arm, hoping to catch a few drops on his skin, but there was a protruding chunk of roof overhead, and he couldn't reach beyond it. Somehow, this only seemed to motivate the boy, who leaned forward perilously over the edge of his windowsill. 

There! A few wet droplets landed with a plop and traveled down his wrist, and Dean felt a strange giddiness bubbling out of him. He leaned a bit further, looking down to admire the view of his garden from above. His room occupied the northernmost tower of the castle, and from his vantage point, he was blessed with a breath-taking view of his garden, and the forest-coated mountains that lay beyond it. Dean breathed in the warming spring air, suddenly conscious of the grin on his face. What is wrong with me today?

In his own world, the prince hadn’t notice that someone had entered the room, until he had arms around him, and was being yanked, a bit violently, back inside. Dean gasped breathlessly, landing on something too soft to be the floor. He whipped around fiercely to face his assailant, only to discover he was currently on the lap of, from the looks of it, an equally furious Castiel. 

Oh.

“Prince Dean,” oh shit, he was in trouble, “what in the world, do you think you are doing?” Castiel had a habit of emphasizing aggressively on certain words when he was angry, and most of the time Dean found it endearing, but at the moment, it was directed at himself. 

Dean went immediately on the defensive. “What? I am allowed to look at the beautiful view of this county that has been so graciously provided to me, am I not?” Patriotism always worked on Cas. 

The knight, however, looked no less outraged than before. “Dean. Is it not possible for you to enjoy the view without putting yourself in life-threatening positions? You are the heir to this country! Surely, you realize your own importance to its future!”

Suddenly, something inside of Dean snapped, and he decided that he did not need this sort of treatment at the moment. 

“I will do as I please.” The words came out cold and monotone, biting at Castiel’s heart, who suddenly looked less like a rabid dog, and more like a kicked puppy. Dean felt bad for the man, knowing that Castiel was only concerned for him, but there was a prideful edge to the prince that even he, himself, knew would one day be his undoing. As a future Alpha, he couldn’t back down. His father had been very clear on this matter: Alphas did not submit.

So Dean just stared in the smoldering, icy fashion that he was know for, unsure of where to go from there. He had never used his authority as prince on Castiel before, and although it wasn’t stated directly, Dean knew he had used his class to overpower the concerned Alpha. He felt a pang of shame in his heart, but it went away as quickly as it had come, replaced by stronger, torrential frustration at himself. What was wrong with him?

All of a sudden, his body felt hot all over, and his skin felt like it was being pricked by needles. He closed his eyes, palms rubbing his lids, and made his way to his bed. I need a seat, his head started throbbing, and a drink. 

“Dean?” Lifting his head was a struggle of its own, but he rested his cheeks on his palms and looked tiredly at the suddenly concerned Castiel. Dean groaned internally, reprimanding himself for worrying Castiel, especially after he had been so rude to his childhood friend.

“I’m fine, Cas.” Dean managed a weak smile. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather today. Perhaps, I’ll just take the day off?”

Castiel looked unconvinced but agreed that he should get some rest. He excused himself from Dean’s presence, saying he had some matters of his own to attend to, and telling Dean to rest properly. 

Dean only stared silently at his knight’s departing back. His body felt heavy, and he was sweating profusely. A cold breeze drifted through his window, offering a brief respite. He kicked of his blankets, and ripped off his clothes, and suddenly the heat went away. Huh?

Dean sighed in relief. He wasn’t sure what fixed his condition, and at the moment it didn’t matter. The prince was just grateful it was gone. He laid back on his bed, because the tiredness still hadn’t left him. He thought about how he was going to apologize to Castiel for his behavior, later. Another breeze gushed into his room, moist and carrying the smell of rain. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations on his bare skin. 

The soothing sound of rain outside coaxed a memory to the surface of his mind, and Dean was still thinking about a certain boy as he fell asleep.

He had a performance overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, boring, I know :\\. At least you received a bit more insight into Dean's character (maybe?) Well the next chapter should be fairly more fun :). I will try to update as soon as I have it completed. I know the story is moving quite slowly. The pace should pick up in the next few chapters. As always, thank you for reading! Any feedback is much appreciated :)


	4. Aliens in the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delayed upload! I have been experiencing some technical difficulties. I will try to be more consistent in my schedule from now on, although consistency is not my strong suit. :P
> 
> It would seem I lied! There is going to be at least another chapter of back-story. I am sorry, yet again, for the uneventful nature of this chapter. I have tired my best to make it, at the very least, captivating. I hope I have succeeded for both our sakes. Now, please sit back, and enjoy! :D

Dean's eyes glowed in the shade, and Michael had to keep himself from staring. The boy might have been a massive brat, but he was a gorgeous brat, and the prince of Collins was undeniably attracted to him. He looked up at the sky, hoping to find some form of distraction from the unholy thoughts he was having about a goddamn eight year old. 

The distraction dropped from the heavens through a drop of rain landing on his nose. Dark, foreboding clouds swirled overhead, dulling the colors in the courtyard, yet Dean continued to glow, unyielding in his vibrancy. Fucking hell. He was falling fast and hard, engulfed in those gold-speckled, green kaleidoscope eyes, and the fiery soul that they belonged to.

He tried so hard to hide it, but it just got harder with every passing day. Every pore on his young body seemed to call out to Michael, bewitching the Alpha. Dean stood there, scowling like he did most of the time he was around Michael, completely unaware of what he was doing to the Alpha by simply existing. Michael was aware of how the brat was half his age, and how his feelings were downright wrong. Yet, he saw no way of changing them, so he had tried waiting them out. Obviously, that wasn’t working! 

The heir to Collins had never experienced such strong feelings before. He was usually calm and collected, and then came this- this child, he reminded himself, and completely ruined him. Michael wasn’t like this; he did not pine after people, and especially not children. Though the so-called child in front of him genuinely intimidated him more than most adults he had met in his life. It amazed Michael how much sagacity his student’s expressions held. Dean’s very posture held gravity, suggested he was extraordinary, demanded attention, and Michael had been pulled in. He was sinking, his very emotions anchoring him, dragging him until he drowned.

And, oh, was he drowning. 

At that moment, something changed. A fleeting moment, but somehow it was branded into Michael’s mind. Dean looked through him, at something beyond his comprehension, and Michael, for the first time, saw the prince’s expression soften. There was misery in his gaze, a deep loneliness, and Michael felt a protective instinct flare inside of him. He found himself walking towards his Dean, an alien sound rumbling from his throat. He halted like a cornered deer, and was suddenly painfully aware of the other children in the courtyard, who all seemed terrified, except for Gabriel, who had a cheshire grin plastered onto his face. Meanwhile, Dean had finally snapped out of his trance, hardening again.

Michael wondered how his eyes could be so fiery and passionate, yet so icy and unfeeling. 

Suddenly, one of the children zipped past Michael, and planted himself, arms spread, between him and his Dean. The Alpha had half a mind to rip out the boy’s throat for getting between them, but then he realized how it must have looked to them, him approaching their prince, growling. He viewed the child with new found respect, meeting his electric-blue, unrelenting glare. Castiel. His brain supplied the name, and he tried to commit it to his memory.

“You will not touch Dean.” Castiel was unflinching as he spoke. “If you hurt a single hair on his head, I swear to God, I will murder you.” There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation, and the pure Alpha in the twelve year old’s voice erased any doubt in Michael’s mind; he was competition. 

Castiel. He bound the name to his memory a bit more soundly this time.

Then, it rained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to pick up the pace with the story soon. I am personally, enjoying building the story through flashbacks, but I realize it may not be the most fun to read. You may have noticed that this chapter was a bit from Michael's view point as opposed to Dean's (which has been the trend so far, for the most part). Do not fret! This will be explained next chapter. :)
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and a rating is much appreciated! :D


	5. Under Cover of Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much to all of you who continue to support my work. I have finally reached over a thousand hits! It may not seem like that big of an accomplishment, but to me, at least, it is a milestone, and milestones exist to be celebrated. So here is my extra long chapter (Still back-story. Yes, I know, I'm sorry) to celebrate my first thousand hits. Special thanks to the people who have taken the time to comment and leave their feedback! They make my day :D
> 
> Now, just sit back, and enjoy the story! :)

The rain came without warning, and in no time at all, they were all soaked to the bone. Yet nobody seemed to notice, transfixed by the drama unfolding in front of them. Anna snapped out of her trance first, and quickly mothered her companions inside, relief at the distraction evident on her face. She guided them into the canopy that bordered the courtyard, separating it from the open-air halls that led into the castle, itself.

Michael's eyes never strayed far from Dean's shivering frame. The prince of Winchester had somehow maintained his outraged mask, but he couldn't hide the tremors pulsing throughout his body. The Alpha could already see the cracks forming in his facade. Dean's front was failing. Beyond the anger, Michael could already make out slivers of something else. Emotions that flitted across his pretty face, bringing harsh lines to it's surface. Eventually, Michael's scrutiny was noticed by the younger prince, and those breath-taking eyes met his own.

Michael swore his heart skipped a beat.

But Dean only spun around, huffing, and made his way into the castle, safe from the rain, and perhaps from Michael, himself. The Alpha only sighed. He stared at Dean's retreating back, as the object of his affections attempted to put as much distance as possible between the two of them. Swearing he could hear his heart tearing in half, the prince of Collins began to trudge to his own chambers to change out his now-drenched clothing.

He stripped slowly, thinking about how somewhere nearby, a certain prince might have been doing the same thing. Michael had not expected the sudden pressure in his lower body, and shame swept through him. Eight. Dean was a goddamn eight year old.

Hoping to spur his mind in a different direction, he made his way to the library, his favorite part of the castle. The palace was beautifully constructed, if a bit smaller than what Michael was accustomed to. On his first day here, the Alpha was given a tour of the place, and had immediately fallen in love with the library. It may have rivaled his own library in size. Rows upon rows of books filled the large space, giving off a productive vibe. There was a gorgeous mural of tinted glass in the back, which lit the entire room on bright days, throwing shades of blues, golds, greens, and reds, across the sitting arrangement in the back. There were coffee tables, and soft chairs for visitors, but Michael was always drawn to a certain spot in a corner, hidden by a series of large bookshelves, yet lit by the light piercing a cluster of gold and green glass panes, as well as it’s own personal window.

Michael thought about what had led him to this spot to begin with, as he had so many times in the time he had been in Winchester. The lights, the atmosphere, the pretty sights, they were fine and all, but the real reason the Alpha found himself spending so much time in the library engulfed him as he walked inside. The aroma closed around him, and he felt his entire body relax. This scent had led him to his favorite spot. The fragrance of somebody who had spent enough time in here to mark the very air as his own, and what a mind blowing fragrance it was. Mouth-wateringly familiar, but always too faint for him to figure out where it had come from. The scent of something that had yet to blossom, and today it was stronger than ever. 

The prince's eyes snapped open. The owner had been here, his nostrils flared, no, the owner was still here. A rush went through him, and his legs moved of their own accord, stalking towards the back of the room. He had to find the source. 

Today, the scent was laced with excitement, bubbly like champagne, and Michael was already drunk. Every now and then, he had noticed that the aroma would change like the seasons. Sour, bitter, spicy, and sweet. Most likely, the fragrances corresponded with the mood of their owner. Different genres, different emotions. Easily influenced.

If that wasn't adorable, Michael didn't know what was.

Rounding a corner, he made a beeline towards his usual spot. The scent was stronger now, coming off its source in waves, as if it had been suppressed for the longest time, and only here was it free. His pace quickened, and suddenly, Michael was standing behind a shelf, and the object was the only thing separating him from something that he wholeheartedly wanted to devour. Logically, the prince knew that this may not end well, but at the moment, he was running on instinct.

Deep breath. First Impressions were important.

He made his way around the shelf, eyes desperate and searching, taking in the sight before him. The spot was homely, obviously somebody had inhabited it often enough that they had dragged a soft mattress there with a few large cushions to lean on, and a pile of blankets in case it got cold, large enough for two people. There was a small window to one side, which was closed then, water dripping down like veins on the outer side. A dull, misty light streamed through, painting the scenery in an ethereal quality. 

And, there, in the middle of this beautiful clearing, was an even more beautiful boy, with his backlit, dusty-golden hair, pinks lips parted showing a glimpse of an incredible grin, head lowered and focused on the book in front of him. He giggled, and Michael was awed by how the very sound made him giddy with joy. Then, finally, the boy seemed to notice that he was no longer alone. He snapped his head up, intending to glare the intruder away.

Kaleidoscope eyes met his own, surprised, wide and unblinking, maybe even fearful. Michael wanted to put the boy to ease, wanted to reassure the boy that he would never hurt him, but his throat was dry. He noticed that the scent was fading again, the mask was being put back together once again. He would have to work fast.

Without warning, the Alpha walked over to his boy, and plopped himself down beside him. The mask cracked once more under the pressure of undeniable surprise and uncertainty.

The prince of Collins only smiled. “What ya readin’ there, Dean?” Be casual, calm him.

The prince of Winchester seemed unsure of how to respond, so he went with the pure, un-snark-ified truth for once. “Wanderlust,” he started uncertainly, “It’s an old novel.”

“Really? I had no idea you enjoyed reading.”

Blotches of red started to color Dean’s cheeks. “I-I know I don’t seem like the type, but I really love to read.” He gave Michael a sideways glance. “And write.”

Michael was honestly taken aback by the sudden openness on behalf of the boy, Dean had even volunteered information about himself. With renewed confidence, the Alpha prodded the prince on, determined to learn as much as he could about this extraordinary boy.

“What’s it about?” Don’t pressure, be cool.

Dean’s eyes unfocused, as if seeing something beyond their line of sight, tilting his head to the side, obviously in deep thought. “Well the title basically explains the conflict of the story. It’s about a young girl who is confined to the village of her birth, and even though she loved her home, she had a dream. A dream to visit places far and beyond, to explore the unknown, and to experience the thrill of unadulterated adventure.”

“Hence, Wanderlust.” Michael supplied, and Dean looked at him strangely.

The younger prince agreed, looking away, out of the window, his voice dreamy, otherworldly. 

“Hence, Wanderlust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't been including enough Cas, but that will change soon! As soon as I finish with the godforsaken back story! I promised to explain why the POV switched from Dean to Michael in this chapter but unfortunately I never got to it :\ I apologize for that. I will try my best to include it in the next chapter. The explanation should mark the end of the back story, or at least it's supposed to. Consistency has never been my strong point :P.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any and all feedback! It inspires me :).  
> Thank you so very much for reading, and have a nice day!


	6. Compass to a Caged Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another quick update! I've been in an inspired mood lately. Sorry if I'm spamming the works list!
> 
> As promised, I explain why the POV changed to Michael. It's a cutesy little chapter, mostly fluff, but provides insight into Dean and Michael's relationship. I really enjoy using imagery, but I struggle with it. I'm never really satisfied with it! This chapter, it was okay, but there's always room for improvement, and that's something I wish to work on in the future. Hopefully, it is bearable this chapter! This IS the last chapter of back-story... for now... haha. 
> 
> Please sit back and enjoy the chapter!
> 
> (P.S: I just found out that my words haven't been italicizing in the previous chapters... I figured out how to fix it, but that may have caused some confusion in the previous chapters. I apologize for any difficulty with comprehension that may have arisen!)

White light flooded the setting, bathing the scene in a celestial element. To Michael, it only made sense. After all, the moment had been sent as a gift from the heavens, and Dean was his angel. Their close proximity had not gone noticed my the older prince, and at certain points, he could have sworn that the younger prince was affected as well. Momentary blushes colored the boy’s cheeks, the pink highlighting the numerous freckles in his face. Dean kept trying to pull away, Michael was aware. But, there was no way he was going to let that happen.

 

Every time Dean started closing himself off, Michael would pry his shell open, until, it seemed that the boy stopped trying.

 

“I want to leave this place,” he started, vulnerability heavy in his voice, “I-I love my home, I really do, b-but, I have this dream.” His eyes were wide, sparkling, pulling Michael in. “There are these places, you see.” He spoke quickly. “Beautiful sunsets, gorgeous mountains, incredible sights.” He sighed. “I’ve never seen the ocean.” He played with the hem of his shirt, smiling sadly. “There’s so much I want to do.” He looked down at his hands that lay on his lap. “So much that I can never do.” Another sigh. The next words were uttered in a whisper, so low that the Alpha barely heard him.

 

“Sometimes, I feel like a prisoner. Confined to my title, to the expectations from my family, to my duty to the people.” Wet eyes, a distant gaze. “I can’t be the adventurer in this story.” Their eyes met.

 

“My role has been picked for me.”

 

Michael wanted to say something, reassure the younger prince that he could do all of those things, be anything he wished to be, but those were lies. He knew, and so did the boy. Dean saw through him, knew his intentions, and gave him a small sad smile.

 

The boy got up, and for a second Michael was scared that he would leave, but then he walked further into the corner, towards the small window. Dean opened it. Water sprayed off the edges, sprinkling the two in drops of the tears of a higher power. The younger prince stuck out his arm first, his back to Michael. Then he shoved in his other arm, and then his head. He pushed out his shoulders, dragging himself out to his chest.

 

“A few months ago, I could fit through here.” Bringing himself back inside, the boy stared at his lost opportunity.

 

“I should have fled then.”

 

Turning around, Dean faced his companion, now his confidant. Tears streamed down his face, running over his flawless skin, catching on his lashes. Michael felt a chill at how breathtakingly beautiful the younger prince was. This was a face that would start wars, of that he was sure. He chided himself at his apparent one track mind.

 

“This life is not for me, Michael. I am not fit to rule.”

 

Soft, broken, his voice tugged at Michael heart strings. The boy laughed a broken laugh. Golden rays of light streamed in behind the boy, the setting sun piercing through the clearing clouds.

 

“I guess I’ll just have to act my part.”

 

He took a shaky breath, eyes lowered.

 

Finally deciding to act, the older prince walked over to his new friend, taking slow strides. He reached over to the young boy’s face, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. Dean sniffed, blushing slightly. He turned away, once again looking out the window, facing away from Michael.

 

“This smell…” He muttered something Michael couldn’t quite hear.

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“The smell- I like the smell!” He wiped at his nose, suddenly flustered.

 

“Smell…? Oh.” Finally understanding, the Alpha made his way to stand beside Dean, breathing in the moist air.

 

“It’s called Petrichor. The fragrance left in the departure of rain.”

 

The boy looked up, seemingly in awe, and Michael suddenly realized that the prince of Winchester was far too young to be facing the harsh reality of their world. He knew the pressure of being the heir to the throne, but he had always accepted it, wanted it even. Plus, his father was no John Winchester. He cringed at the very thought of the harsh King parenting him.

 

“I didn’t know it had a name… Petrichor, huh?”

 

“Yes. Petrichor.”

 

“Maybe you could teach me more words…” Suddenly blushing, the boy lowered his head. “I am incredibly sorry for my behaviour towards you. My anger was completely unwarranted and you deserve much better. I’m really, really sorry. I understand if you find it hard to forgive me but-”

 

“Dean.”

 

“-I will try my best to be a good student from now on, and would really appreciate it if-”

 

“Dean, please.”

 

The boy stopped, red faced.

 

“It’s fine. I understand why you acted out, and forgive you for it. Now please, for the love of God, stop apologizing.”

 

A hopeful look sent Michael’s heart into a frenzy.

 

“Let’s start over.”

 

He extended a hand over to the younger prince.

 

“I am Michael, Prince of Collins, heir to the throne, sixteen year-old Alpha.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, laughing at the cliche gesture. Nevertheless, his hand met Michael’s, sending static up his arm. Dean grinned, glowing.

 

“My name is Dean, the delinquent Prince of the North, heir to Winchester, eight year-old Alpha in the making.”

 

Michael cocked an eyebrow. So, he was aware of his reputation.

 

“Of Course, I am aware of reputation,” Dean said, as if reading Michael’s thoughts. “I built it myself. What Alpha doesn’t cause a bit of trouble as a child?”

 

“Very true.” The Alpha agreed, laughing, remembering his own tantrums at Dean’s age. Although, he had never really planned it.

 

“By the way,” the younger boy started quietly, suddenly shy, “you’re not really getting paid for doing this, are you?”

 

“Huh? No, I guess not. This is just a diplomatic visit under the guise of teaching, after all.”

 

“Well, I-I feel that my teacher ought to be compensated in some way, o-otherwise, people may think ill of the royal family!”

 

Michael just stared at him, confusion written on his face.

 

“I d-don’t have money to my name as of y-yet,” Dean fidgeted, blushing, looking unsure, “but as a p-prince, c-certain gestures on my part have v-va-value.”

 

“I apologize, Dean, I am not sure what you are suggesting.”

 

Dean swallowed, “J-just close your eyes!”

 

“H-huh?”

 

“J-just do it!”

 

And he did, nervousness clear in his posture.

 

Dean’s voice was quiet again, taking on the secretive quality from before.

 

“As prince of Winchester, I Dean, heir to the throne, wish to grant you with the only honor available to me. Please accept this gesture… a-and don’t you dare mention it to another soul.”

 

Michael began to open his mouth, meaning to assure his companion that he wouldn’t, but before he managed to speak, something he was stopped by a sensation that he would crave for the rest of his life.

 

Something soft met his lips, coaxing his own into a gentle, chaste kiss.

 

==================================

 

 _Thud_!

 

Michael’s eyes snapped open, he quickly reached under his pillow, pawing for the dagger he had always kept there. Except, there was no dagger, or even a pillow! He pushed himself into a sitting position, quickly looking around.

 

He had fallen out of his bed.

 

The king sighed, rubbing his eyes. The day made itself apparent through the light that streamed through the cracks in his heavy drapes. The sun was just rising, he still had time to sleep, but somehow he just found himself sitting on the floor, head resting on his palms, basking in the afterglow of a dream he had seen so many times before, but never grew tired of.

  
He wondered how something so gentle and sweet had seared itself into his mind, setting him on fire with desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seems to be a bit longer as well, mostly because of the dialogue, but it also has a higher word count. I'd like to make all my future chapters at least over a thousand words as well, but as always, consistency is not a trait of mine!
> 
> Expect more chapters soon, the snow has my mind muddled with thoughts that need to be put on paper. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support! :D


	7. Bleed Lavender, Beloved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update, but I'm not quite happy with this chapter :\\. My inspiration seems to have died halfway through the chapter. The infamous writer's block, perhaps? I don't think so :) Hopefully I'll be more satisfied with the next chapter. 
> 
> Well, the moment you have all been waiting for has arrived! This is my first time writing angst, so I'm not sure how good of a job I did. Hopefully, it went alright! It was definitely a learning experience, and I do love my angst! Another long chapter with a makeshift POV change. Finally bringing in more Castiel!
> 
> As always, sit back, and enjoy the chapter! :)
> 
> (P.S.- Porn!!! It's poorly written as well! I apologize in advance D: It was mostly for foreshadowing, but I need the practice for future chapters as well)

His eyes fluttered open, famous orbs taking in the sight before him. The room was vibrantly lit, afternoon rays shining across the space, carrying promises of a setting sun in the near future. Dean had slept in. He raised himself into a sitting position, throwing his blanket off. It was getting too hot for that anyway.The prince rolled his shoulders, feeling the muscles loosen. He was strangely sore, perhaps from sleeping in an unusual position.

 

He pushed off his bed, slowly, graceful, as a prince should be.Stretching, he made his way to the bath area. He took great pride in his washroom. It had been designed by his genius cousin, Sam. To get flowing water up a tower as high as his was no small feat, and mathematicians and engineers alike would come to witness it with their own eyes, calling it a miracle. It was no miracle, Sam was just amazing. He had been next in line to rule Winchester, but that is not the life the Alpha wanted for himself.

 

Another reason Dean couldn’t leave.

 

Turning on the water, he stepped under it’s cool assault. He let his mind wander back to his dreams. Those cool gray eyes had haunted his dreams for far too long. Tyrant of the East. He had promised to return for Dean, but villians rarely kept promises, and he was a thief. A thief who had stolen a prince’s heart, with no intentions of returning to the scene of his crime. It was probably for the best anyway, two Alphas could never be together, and although Dean had yet to present, he knew it was only a matter of time before his knot came.

 

These lewd thoughts would then leave him, once and for all, he reasoned.

 

A hand snaked down his torso. _He was sinful_. The other dragged across his chest, and he shivered as sparks flew across his skin. _An Alpha doesn’t touch himself like that_ , the prince chided. Yet, he found himself pinching his nipple, biting his lip, bending over with his face against the wall. His other hand creeped between his legs, up to his ass, and his fingers grazed over the most sensitive part of his body. He gasped, eyes blown wide with the green barely showing anymore. _Stop_. Gray eyes flashed across his vision, stormy like the october skies. A finger settled at the entrance. _No._ He pushed it in, up to a knuckle.

 

Just like that, Dean came.

 

Collapsing into a kneeling position, he cried. His sobs echoed off the walls, and the prince of Winchester remembered that this, too, was inappropriate behavior for an Alpha. Nails dug into the soft flesh of his thighs, pain distracting him from his predicament. It broke skin, and Dean let out a breath, feeling his sin release with the blood. He dug deeper, eager to repent fast, become clean once more. He had to atone.

 

He let the water wash away his offense, willing his regenerative system forth to heal his wound before it scarred. He shut his eyes, telling himself that he wasn’t crying, it was just the water from the shower. He sighed as the liquid warmed. Turning the knob to full blast, he willed it to cool, but it only seemed to be getting hotter. Hotter and hotter, until suddenly, it was unbearable.

 

Dean stepped out of the basin, but the air in the room threatened to boil him alive. He started to panick. It was like earlier in the morning, he felt like he was suffocating. What was wrong with him?

 

The  prince ran into his room and cracked the windows open, hoping for a wind, or anything, that would take away this-this _heat_. This god-awful, horrendous, _dreadful HEAT._

 

His head snapped up, eyes bulging.

 

He sniffed himself, hoping to god that this wasn’t what he thought it was. _No, no, no, no. NO! NO! NO!_

 

His scent was changing.

His blood ran cold.

This wasn’t a rut.

 

Dean screamed. He screamed and screamed, pulling at his hair, punching at the walls. He screamed until his voice caught in his throat and refused to cooperate with him, until his knuckles tore and bled, until he was sobbing silently because his throat was too raw to make a sound.

 

_Betrayed by his body once more._

He chuckled at the irony, giggling turning into full blown laughter. He roared, laughing hysterically, tears still streaming down his face, vaguely aware that there was somebody knocking at his door. _So un-Alpha-like. Bad Dean. Alphas don’t cry._

Somebody kicked the door open, and Dean looked up, beaming insanely.

 

“Cas!” The prince pulled himself off the ground, stumbling, and drunkenly walked towards his friend. His body felt so weak. _Already an Omega bitch._

 

Castiel paled, looking in horror at the state of his prince.

 

“Dean, wha-” His eyes widened, nostrils flaring. “Oh.”

 

“Oh…” Dean looked absolutely psychotic. “ _Oh_. OH! ‘OH.’ HE SAID. OH! MY LIFE HAS BEEN RUINED, CAS. MY LIFE HAS BEE-"

 

He fainted, eyes rolling back into his head, but Castiel caught him, as the knight always had. He worked quickly, putting the prince in his bed and running out of the room. The Alpha slammed the door shut, needing to put something physically between himself and the presenting Omega.

 

His pupils were still dilated, and only a hint of deep red showed at the edge. He leaned back on the door, needing to catch his breath.

 

_Holy fucking shit._

 

Dean was an Omega. Castiel took deep breaths, calming himself, but he still failed to process this new development. How? This wasn't possible. Dean had always been the perfect image of a traditional Alpha, it just didn't make sense for him to present as an Omega, but the aroma assaulting him all the way into the hall did not lie.

 

_Sweet, like honeysuckle; rustic, like leather; clear, like pine._

_Lovely, like Dean._

There was an array of fragrances enveloping Castiel, lulling him to the source, irresistible and deadly like Sirens. He could get lost in the feeling, the scent of everything that called him home.

 

Using up the last fragments of his shattering resolve, he pushed himself off the door, graceful, as a knight should be. The Alpha ran, putting distance between himself and his predatory urges. He would have to seal off the tower. An unmated Omega in heat would act like a beacon to Alphas, and sooner or later, one would lose control. Castiel growled at the very thought of them going near his Dean.

 

At the base of the stairs, the knight was met with a very confused looking Anna and Benny.

 

“Dean…?” Anna didn’t bother to continue, the question was clear as day, hanging in the space between them.

 

“He’s an Omega.” Somehow, actually uttering the words out loud made it finally sink in. Fear for his friend bloomed in his chest, but all the same, a different feeling was just planted. He tried to ignore it, but the seed was there, growing.

 

“Uh- We need to uh- um… isolate him, yes, isolate…” Benny couldn’t even form coherent sentences. “I’ve never s-smelt one like this before.” His accent became more pronounced. The other knight blinked several times, as if he was trying to clear his head, but his baby-blue eyes began to thread with red, the clear indication of an aroused Alpha. The man only gave them a guilty look.

 

Castiel stiffened, trying to suppress the possessive jealousy that sprung out, unwarranted at his friend. He knew it wasn’t the other Alpha’s fault, but a low growl still escaped his throat. Benny immediately looked less apologetic, taking on a defensive stance. Red bled through blue, coloring both their eyes bloody.

 

“Ugh, Alphas!” Anna looked notably pissed, glaring at the two. “Listen here, you stupid fucking knotheads, Dean is possibly suffering up there, I don’t have the time to deal with you two. If you can’t control yourselves, then get away from here! You’re only getting in the way!” The Beta Knight crossed her arms, looking every bit as intimidating as her title suggested she was. She looked them in the eye, daring them to challenge her.

 

The boys cooled instantly, hanging their heads in shame.

 

“We need to assign a Beta-only guard to this entire portion of the castle, and keep everybody else away from the tower. This… this is a special case.” She suddenly shuddered. “I can smell it…”

 

“What?” Castiel looked alarmed. Betas couldn’t smell ruts or heats, they were unaffected by them.

 

The red head sniffed, closing her eyes. “It’s definitely there... sugary… I’m not sure how it’s possible, but the scent is very clearly there… along with a pull...”

 

Anxiety took over Castiel. This definitely wasn’t normal; it was absolutely unheard of for a Beta to be affected by heats. The knight had already felt that this heat was much stronger than average one, but even the most violent heats went unnoticed by Betas. They were the unaffected voices of reason, which made this all the more worrisome.

 

“Don’t worry, it isn’t a strong pull, but it’s definitely there. I’ll make sure to pick my most trustworthy guards.” With that, she turned on her heel, and strided away purposely, leaving the other two knights to work out their own problems.

 

Castiel watched his sister retreat, knowing Dean was safe in her hands. He turned towards his friend, making eye contact. They nodded quickly, ending the conflict officially, without submitting to the other. It was how Alphas usually settled their disputes if they wanted to retain their friendship.

 

They parted, walking in different directions. Castiel could still smell Dean, which was vexing on its own considering the substantial amount of space he had already put between them. _What was going on?_

Eventually, the aroma dulled, slowly fading tiredly into the air, but Castiel still felt as if he was drowning in Dean, in the smell of the woods, of the wilde, of a possible home.

 

The fragrance burnt itself into his soul, setting him on fire with desire, and he picked up his pace, humming a distraction under his breath while the lyrics played in the back of his mind.

 

_Lavender… is always, running through my blood._

 

He would protect Dean, the way he always had. Even if what he was protecting the Omega from, was himself.

 

_I’ve had enough… I’m cold, enough… Dusk, turns into, dust…_

Deny yourself, Castiel Novak.

 

_You need to help me… Learn how to, carry yourself…_

 

You are a savior.

 

_ Bleed Lavender… my love... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Deano... I felt bad just writing that part... well, maybe not ;). I have quite a few choices to make at this point. The story could progress in a multitude of ways, and I'm not really sure which one(s) I prefer. That, paired with my duties in the real world, may interfere with my upload schedule, screwing up the rate which I currently had going on :(. Rest assured, I will be writing whenever I can! Hopefully, the change isn't too drastic :)!
> 
> "Lavender Blood" is actually a real song, although I may have changed the lyrics slightly to fit my purpose. I found it as I began writing the last part and it had a sort of haunting quality to it. I felt the urge to include it into the end, so I did. I sort of like it there, but maybe it's just distracting. Oh well! Risks are inevitable I suppose :). 
> 
> Thank you, again, for reading and all the feedback. I really appreciate all the support! :D


	8. Dear Lobelia || Child Drunk on Venom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters have begun sounding more and more like FOB song titles. As I begin to get more comfortable with my writing, my chapters seem to become longer as well. Hopefully, nobody minds the added length!
> 
> Alright, so, I've explained some of the a/b/o mechanics of my world in this chapter. All you need to know for now is in here, and anything additional will be added as the need arises. I'm pretty pleased with this chapter, haha. Hopefully you guys are too. It might get a bit angsty, you have been warned! Crying Dean is cute Dean. Actually, every Dean is cute Dean. Anyway, a bit of hard-break goes a long way to move the plot along!
> 
> As always, sit back and enjoy the chapter! :D

Dreamlike, an angel soared through the forest, weaving through the trees, jumping over the undergrowth...

All to get away from Castiel.

 

Dean ran as fast as his legs would carry him, each step taking him a little further from where his knight could reach him. He glanced back once, only once, piercing the Alpha with those eyes, the famous Kaleidoscope eyes, now glassy with tears. A whispered apology was torn by the gale, stealing the voice Castiel longed to hear, for what he knew, would be the last time.

 

He turned back, stumbling, yet never slowing down, never sparing his savior a second look.

 

Legs pumping harder, the prince of Winchester slammed his feet into the ground, sprinting hard enough to break free,

 

Out of his shackles, out of his cage,

 

And he flew.

 

Flew away to somewhere Castiel could no longer love him.

 

==================================

 

**Night:**

 

Hell flowed through Dean's veins, setting fire to his soul, making him burn with need. The omega felt like death. His body was leaden with sudden tiredness, and he could only lay with his back arched in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pain, the longing, the deadly desperation.

 

"Michael..." Perhaps, knowing that the older prince wouldn't come save him was most painful thing. "But... You promised!" The boy felt his eyes prickle, filling to the brim with unshed tears. He sat up, steeling himself.

 

Dean would not cry.

 

Not for his touch, not for his love, not for his unfulfilled promises.

No.

Never for Michael.

 

The pain came again, rearing its ugly head. His own body had turned on him. He could trust nobody.

 

Not even himself.

 

_Damn hormones!_

 

He gathered his wits, tried to think clearly, but it was painful, it was impossible. _Hurts, it hurts. Mother…_

 

Finding an outlet, Dean let himself go, let the tears finally flow. Not for his tiresome love, but for the woman who had birthed him. The beautiful woman who had loved him, kept him safe. He sobbed, for that woman had left him too.

 

_No, she didn’t want to. The world snatched her from me!_

Mary Winchester had been the light of his life, the only thing that had protected him from his father’s harsh treatment. Even after Michael left, never returning, his mother had been there. Then came the coughs, the longer naps in the noons, the paling skin.

 

 _“You have such pretty eyes, Dean.”_ She would say, _“Its like looking at a forest through a kaleidoscope.”_

 

John Winchester didn’t think pretty was a word that should be used to describe an Alpha.

 

Dean took to escaping to the eastern forest. Not a day went by when Mary would wake up without a bouquet of wildflowers at her feet, along with the small prince that had delivered them. They brought such joy to her face that Dean even ignored his father’s bitter remarks. _Flower-picking isn’t for Alphas, boy! You want to grow up into some weak Omega? Stop this nonsense at once!_

Omegas weren’t weak. His mother was the strongest person he knew.

 

An Alpha-Omega couple like his parents could birth either Alpha or Omega, but since he was a male, the chances of him being Omega were slim to say the least. Male Omegas were incredibly rare. Nevertheless, John Winchester must have seen _something_ in the boy, something that revealed his faith to the man. Most of the world would have considered a male Omega a gift, they were fertile and birthed the strongest Alphas, but not John Winchester. The king had tried so hard to prevent it, but Dean had failed. Failed to be the son his father had always wanted, the Alpha son.

 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder if his mother would have been disappointed, too.

 

She had wilted like the flowers at the base of her bed, slowly, right in front of his eyes. His beautiful kaleidoscope eyes.

 

He hadn’t cried.

His father wouldn’t permit it.

 

As Dean sobbed into the sheets of his bed, he couldn’t help but think that he had failed John again.

 

==================================

 

At midnight, Dean woke to a calm. His heat had lapsed for the moment, presenting an opportunity. The prince dragged his sore body off the enticing sheets, dreading what he was about to do. He packed quickly and quietly, making a list as he went. There was only so much he could carry, so he took only the bare essentials.

 

Stuffing everything in his knapsack, he made a mental note to steal some food from the kitchen on his way out. Scavenging for anything else that may be of use to him, he stumbled across a small portrait of family. He stared at it for the longest time; at his mother, smiling vibrantly; at a younger version of himself, clinging to her; at his father, scowling as always.

 

Giving the gesture no thought, he took out a small knife and scratched out his, stuffing the injured work into his satchel. Dean felt numb.

 

Garnering a cloak and a rope, he started on his dangerous task. The prince made his way to the balcony. He threw an end over the edge, watching the length fall all the way into his garden.Then, he tied the other end to the doors separating the space from his room. The boy moved with grace, a practiced movement. His father had gone to ridiculous lengths in order to keep his son from picking flowers, but they had never worked. Dean found his own ways out of the castle, around the castle.

 

He slid down the material carefully, noting the humid air. Rain would cover his tracks nicely. Reaching the ground, he went to work, searching for his salvation. He knew the garden like the back of his hand. After all, he had been the one to take care of it. His father thought the gardener tended to it, and that’s how Dean had kept it. A small luxury that Dean had allowed himself. Not anymore.

 

His eyes swept over the fruits of his labor, his sanctuary, until they found what they’d been looking for. _Lobelia._

 

The omega moved slowly, staring down the midnight-blue plant. The stars shone brilliantly overhead, and the full moon illuminated the scene with a milky light. The flowers looked stunning, Dean had taken good care of his poison. A movement later, he had a petal in his trembling grasp.

Lips parted, allowing the venom through. He placed it on his tongue, feeling it melt. _Bitter._

_Sweet Lobelia._

Dean would bear the pain.

 

The Lobelia wouldn’t kill him. It only served the purpose of suppressing heats, but at the cost of physical agony. It was said to be unbearable.

 

He had a week before the misery kicked in. By then, he will be long gone from this place. He could take the torture in peace.

 

_Now, for the food._

 

==================================

 

Castiel woke thrashing, nightmare slowly fading at the edges.

 

_Dean!_

 

He stilled, coming to his senses. The Alpha sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out his eyes, sighing. _A bad omen_. Realizing he could no longer fall back to sleep, the knight decided on a walk to calm his nerves. Keeping still never did him any good.

 

Strolling through the halls, Castiel could no longer remember his dream, but he knew it had something to do with the prince. He felt deeply unsettled.

 

_Dean…_

 

Passing a window, he looked out into the starry night. Dark clouds bordered the horizon, threatening to swallow the pretty scenery. Thunder boomed over the land, lightning whipping the faraway mountains.

 

_A storm was coming._

 

Suddenly, Castiel felt panic flooding his heart. Something _felt_ wrong.

 

_Dean._

Where was his scent?

 

He jogged at first, but then broke out sprinting. He ran; ran down the halls; ran up the stairs; ran into the tower. He smashed the door open. The moonlight illuminated his intense blue eyes, his searching blue eyes.

 

_Dean?_

 

The seed of hope was dying.

 

“Dean?” He tried to say, but the sound just kind of died in his throat.

 

_I saved you._

 

Castiel felt betrayed.

 

_I loved you._

Castiel felt unwanted.

 

_I was never enough for you._

 

Castiel felt broken.

 

_Selfless, selfish Prince of Winchester,_

 

Still, he ran.

 

_ Loving you is my sin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I was debating on whether or not I wanted to make this chapter longer, but decided against it. I like how it ends, and would like to keep a constant upload rate, as well as an even word count. Consistency is not my strong point (you've heard it before and you'll hear it again), but I'm trying to keep SOME sense of order here, hahah. :P
> 
> I had hoped to establish the depth of Cas' feelings in this chapter, and later you will find out the error in his feelings.
> 
> Lobelia is a genus of flowers, not a species, but I read it somewhat toxic and I liked the name, so I used it. Let's just pretend it's a specie in this universe! :)
> 
> Thank you, again, for reading and all your support! Means the world to me! :D


	9. Cherry-Champagne Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've reached 10,000 words! Another milestone for me :).  
> In celebration, here is an extra long chapter with the Destiel you've all been waiting for! Haha :D.
> 
> The chapter is comprised of mostly dialogue, which is good because I need the practice, but bad, because I needed the practice. Hopefully it turned out okay. 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter!

Grinning, the prince raised his hands. “I surrender, O’ powerful one.  Spare me, I beg of you! I have a wife and children!”

 

Castiel was too busy doubling over panting, trying to catch his breath, to actually respond. So, he resorted to glaring.

 

Dean beamed, the childish expression somehow blowing away the Alpha’s anger. _No, Castiel, don’t be weak!_

 

“Dean, where do you think you’re going?” He somehow huffed out.

 

“A journey, Cas! A journey!” _Not a trace of guilt._

 

“What?” _Sound more irritated, dammit!_

“An adventure!” The Omega squatted easily, meeting the hunched over Castiel at his elevation. His smile melted the older man’s heart.

 

“An adventure? Dean, don’t bullshit me!” _Yes, be tough._

The boy sighed, closing his eyes.

 

Opening them again, he said, “You always did see through me.” His smile was sad now. _That’s cheating._

 

“In this situation, it wasn’t a particularly difficult task.” He straightened, needing to return to a position of authority.

 

“I guess not.”

 

“Dea-”

 

“But!” A mischievous expression colored his features. “I know you quite well, myself.”

 

Castiel threw him an exasperated look, but played along. “Oh, really?”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well… for one thing, I knew you would find me here.”

 

Castiel had guessed that already. They were standing in a clearing of sorts, full of white Dahlias. The sight was gorgeous, and when Dean had found it on one of his excursions to the Eastern forest, he had immediately led Cas to it. This was their spot.

 

Upon finding Dean’s room empty, Castiel had woken the entire castle. The guards had been stationed some distance away from the prince’s tower, seeing as his scent seemed to affect people regardless of Beta status, allowing the Omega to escape. He had issued orders, sending people all over the city to look for the presenting boy. Their country was peaceful and safe, but even there, an Omega in heat was likely to attract the wrong kind of attention.

 

The knight, himself, ran through any places he thought Dean may have passed through, which is how he had landed here. The Alpha hadn’t expected to have found the boy just sitting there, in wait of him.

 

“Why?” _The seed should be dead._

 

“What do you mean why?” Dean’s eyebrows drew together, and he pouted in a silly way.

 

“Why me?” _You have me around your finger._

“Well, isnt that obvious?”

 

_Pulling me up._

 

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my best friend!”

 

 _Pushing me down_.

 

A sigh escaped him, and Castiel smiled despite himself.

A small, defeated smile.

 

“A friend…”

 

“Huh?” The prince of Winchester had the audacity to look confused.

 

“No, nothing.” Castiel turned around and walked over to the edge of the clearing, back to Dean, so his bitterness wouldn’t show through.

 

“We… w-we are friends… a-aren't we?” Dean suddenly looked much less sure of himself.

_Atleast I mean something to him._

 

Another sigh. “Yes, Dean… yes, of course… friends, sure.” The prince of Winchester had the audacity to look heartbroken.

 

“You don’t sound very convincing.” Castiel didn’t get to look heartbroken.

 

“I’m sorry. Yes, we are friends. Now, can we please go back home?” Gray clouds were closing in on the moon, promising a fierce storm.

 

“I’m not going back.” The Omega looked much less giddy all of a sudden. _The Icy Prince of the North hasn’t completely thawed._

“Dean, don’t be ridiculous! Where are you gonna go? What will you do? Once your father gets back, he’ll come find you any way, and you can only live so long on the money you’re carrying.”

 

The prince laughed mirthlessly. “My father won’t care about his Omega son.” Castiel opened his mouth to argue but was cut off immediately. “I’ll figure out my own living arrangements, you don’t have to worry about me.”

 

Finally, something broke inside of the Alpha.

 

“‘Don’t have to worry about me.’”

 

“Cas…?”

 

_All his life._

 

“‘ _Don’t have to worry about me…_ ’”

 

“Cas-”

 

_Never asking anything in return._

 

“‘ _Don’t have to worry about me!_ ’”

 

“Cas... you’re scaring me...”

 

_Scaring him._

 

“No, Dean Winchester. _You’re_ scaring _me_.”

 

Dean took a deep breath, looking incredibly tired all of a sudden.

 

“Cas, _please._ We can’t do this, not now.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“ _This._ We can’t fight! Cas, I’m leaving.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“Yes. I am.”

 

“I won’t let you.” Red bled through Castiel’s eyes.

 

“You can’t stop me.” Gold flashed in Dean’s eyes.

 

The Alpha had half a mind to drag the disobedient prince back home, but knew that Dean would never forgive him for it. Even as an Omega, Dean was in no way submissive. Even the boy’s scent seemed to-

 

_His scent._

 

“Dean, why can’t I smell you?” His voice sounded dangerously low.

 

The young Winchester paled. “My heat must have lapsed for a bit.”

 

_Heart on his sleeve. Terrible liar._

“Dean,” he growled, “do not lie to me.” Castiel was crowding in on the boy.

 

The prince took a step back involuntarily.

 

“I-I am quite aware that Omegas aren’t s-safe outside the city, and have simply taken measures to prevent any complications.”

 

It was the knight’s turn to pale. “Lobelia…”

 

Right then, the clearing came under a shadow. The prince smiled, drinking up the last bits of moonlight.

 

“You always did see through me.”

 

The sound of distant rain emanated from the direction of the town, a relaxing sound that didn’t fix the scene at all.

 

“But!” The mischievous expression appeared once more. “I know you quite well, myself.” _The delinquent Prince of the North had lived._

 

A gloomy, defeated smile found its place on Castiel’s face. I’m hopeless.

 

“And what is it that you know about me?” _This boy…_

 

“Well…,” Dean turned and walked back into the center of the clearing. “for one thing, I knew you would find me here.” _He has me wrapped around his fingers._

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

The rain was approaching them, a wall of water that curtained them from the rest of the world.

 

“Another thing is that even if I hadn’t met you here, you probably would have found me eventually anyway.”

 

“I would have never stopped looking.” Castiel knew the words to be true.

 

“I know.” _He knew._

 

“And, even if you leave now, I won’t stop looking.” _Honesty seems to be a trend today._

Their eyes met, bringing out the red and gold of their souls.

 

“I know… Which is why I had to meet you here.” Visibly bracing himself, the Omega continued. “It can’t be like that, Cas… I’m gonna have to lead my own life from here on out. You can’t protect me forever.”

 

“I’m sure that can be arranged…” _Oh no._

 

“Huh? What do you mean?” _Stop. Stop. Stop. Abort!_

“You’re an Omega now, Dean. Your father would have married you off, anyway.” _No! Damnit, Castiel! Control yourself!_

 

“Oh.” Dean blushed. “I hadn’t thought of that…”

 

“I guess you couldn’t even imagine yourself with me.” The words sounded so bitter.

 

“It’s not that…” The Omega looked confused and crestfallen.

 

_Fuck it._

 

“Dean Winchester, you know me quite well.”

 

The prince looked up, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

 

The rain was much closer now.

 

“But, there are certain things you don’t know about me.”

 

“And what would that be?” Dean was grinning like a fool.

 

Then, they were consumed, but even drenched, the Knight went on. _My last chance._

“I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester.”

 

And for a second, it seemed that the prince hadn’t heard him over the torrential showers.

 

Then his smile faltered and his eyes glistened. “You’re too late..”

 

Castiel felt his own eyes start to pool. “I know.”

 

“You never said anything.”

 

“I know.”

 

And then they was screaming, tears streaming, in each other's arms.

 

“It should have been you! I should have fallen in love with you!”

 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry!”

 

“You idiot! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I was scared! You were supposed to be an Alpha!”

 

Dean sniffed into Castiel’s chest, sobs racking his body.

 

“I still have to go…”

 

“Dean, please! You can’t do this to me!” _Finally, after all this time…_

 

“I don’t belong here, Cas…”

 

“You can belong with me! I’ll make a home for you, with you.” _This unfair world can’t take you from me..._

“I no longer have a place here… I need to go, Cas. The castle reminds me too much of things I’d rather forget. This is not my home: it hasn’t been since my mother’s death.”

 

Just like that, Castiel’s beating heart was torn in half.

 

“I want to come with you…”

 

“I know.”

 

“But… I-I can’t…”

 

“I know.”

 

“Anna... Gabriel…”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ll come after you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ll find you.”

 

“I’ll wait for you.” _He knew..._

 

From a distance came the sounds of horses. The others were coming.

 

“It’s time.” Dean smiled through the tears.

 

One last time. “Don’t go…”

 

“I have to. But before I go...”

 

Triggered by something, the dream suddenly bubbled forth like champagne, flooding his mind.

 

“Castiel Novak, you have been an amazing friend and comrade to me all these years, and I feel that by not rewarding you, I would bring dishonor to the Winchester family name.”

 

_Dreamlike, an angel soared through the forest, weaving through the trees, jumping over the undergrowth…_

 

“As an Omega runaway prince, I have nothing to my name.”

 

_Dean ran as fast as his legs would carry him, each step taking him a little further from where his knight could reach him._

 

“But as a prince, certain gestures on my part have value.”

 

_A whispered apology was torn by the gale._

 

“As prince of Winchester, I Dean, false heir to the throne, wish to grant you with the only honor available to me.”

 

_Legs pumping harder, the prince of Winchester slammed his feet into the ground, sprinting hard enough to break free._

 

“Please accept this gesture… and…”

 

_And he flew._

 

Dean winked. “I don’t mind if you brag a bit.”

 

_Flew away to somewhere Castiel could no longer love him._

 

But this wasn’t a dream.

 

Soft lips mets his own, gentle and coaxing.

 

Reality was sweet. _Tastes like cherry pie._

 

It’s ending left Castiel empty and longing.

 

“Time for me to flee, my dear knight.” _Cocky grin._

 

“I’ll come for you soon, my lovely prince.”

 

Dean looked uncertain for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind.

 

“I’ll just have to take a leap of faith and believe you.” Then, in a whisper that the alpha was sure wasn’t for his ears. “Hopefully, this time, it’s not a mistake.”

 

“I won’t fail you, Dean. Not now, not ever.”

 

The Winchester smiled his blinding smile. “I know.”

 

“Goodbye Castiel.”

 

Thunder boomed overhead, and then the prince was off. Turning on his heel, pulling on his hood, Dean ran. The cloak hid him from the night. Once he got a fair distance away, he turned and waved, reminding Castiel of another part of his dream.

 

_He glanced back once, only once._

He ran further and further, every step agonizing for Castiel.

 

_He turned back, stumbling, yet never slowing down, never sparing his savior a second look._

 

And then, right before Castiel lost sight of him, he turned back once more. Even through the distance and rain, Castiel saw his tearful smile.

 

Castiel reminded himself that this wasn’t a dream. This was reality.

 

“Goodbye Dean.”

  
And reality tasted like cherry pies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter bordered between good and awful. I am thoroughly confused about how I feel about my writing here. I actually lost motivation somewhere in the middle, which was the reason for this semi-late update. The inspiration came back to me toward the end, though, so no need for worry! :D Still, I'm glad the CasXDean relationship had finally made progress. They shouldn't meet again for a while, but who knows? I'm just making this up as I go.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! :)


	10. Carry on, Righteous Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long since my last update! I am terribly sorry for the delay! Life seems to have finally caught up with me...  
> Dean is finally on his journey. It's a slow chapter, but I wanted to sort a few things out from Dean's view points. His emotions are slowly shifting, evolving with his character. Hopefully this clears up a few things.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

For the first time in his life, Dean felt alive.

 

“Free.” The word rolled off his tongue slowly, awkward and hushed, as if uttering it out loud would break the illusion. The words were so quiet, even in the solitary woods. But, to him, they were far too heavy and seemed to finally sink in, realization hitting him in full force.

 

He was free...

 

_Now what?_

 

The Omega had a vague idea of what he needed to do to survive, but he knew better than to just charge ahead without a concrete plan in mind. He would need to apply all of his knowledge and common sense to the situation and make it out on top. He had promised Castiel that he’d be waiting, and Dean was a man of his word.

_Castiel._

 

The prince continued on his path, thinking about their meeting, and, surprisingly, drawing strength from it. The journey ahead was going to be hard. Even without any further complications, he would still have to find places to sleep and rest as he made his way out of the heart of the kingdom, provide himself with food, manage his money efficiently, come up with a source of income, and deal with the incoming torture of the Lobelia.

 

_The Lobelia._

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at end. Dean was afraid, but he knew he had made the correct decision. If he hadn’t left the castle before his father had arrived, then he may have never left at all. The boy sighed.

 

It was all an excuse. He just couldn’t bear to face his father, to face the disappointed and disgusted looks that his father would have undoubtedly thrown his way, all while he sold his Omega bitch of a son to the highest bidder. Dean refused to acknowledge the prickling at the back of his eyes. He did not care.

 

He would not care.

 

Thoughts of family brought up another issue. The responsibilities of ruling the empire would now fall to the next heir in line, his cousin, Samuel Winchester. Guilt flooded his heart as Dean realized he had doomed the Alpha to become King. Sam would be a wonderful ruler, no doubt, but that is not the life that his cousin had wanted. The man was a genius; he was going to be a mathematician, or even a scientist. The runaway Prince hadn’t said goodbye to him either; he couldn’t face the man.

 

Dean had failed him, too.

 

He looked up at the sky with rapidly flooding eyes, making out the foggy outline of a sun close to the horizon. Picking up the pace so he wouldn’t be stuck in the woods at night, the Omega chided himself. He would have to steel himself, become hardened. The world would be harsh and unkind to somebody of his status. He would have to adapt quickly to having nothing to his name. Dean was no longer a prince. _No, that’s wrong._

 

Dean Winchester was still a prince, but he was no longer Dean Winchester.

 

The trees began to thin out, corresponding strangely with the clouds. He was headed east, towards the more rural parts of the country where people were less likely to find him. In the distance, his eyes could vaguely make out smoke. The sun was setting, but the weather seemed to throw strange shadows across even the skies. Still, the blue-gray slowly faded to an orange-red, the setting sun struggling out of the obstructing gloom. There seemed to be only one source for the fumes, which meant that the Winchester wouldn’t have any other options for shelter.

 

Hopefully, the owners would accommodate him, otherwise, he’d be stuck sleeping in a pit somewhere, the way he had been for the past two nights. He contemplated travelling even through the night, but immediately his sore muscles protested, a painful reminder that he had been walking almost nonstop for several days now. It was necessary of course; he had to put as much distance as possible between himself and the capital, incase somebody was sent after him. Groaning, he shifted his path towards the mystery settlement, praying to God that its owner would be generous.

 

_ _ _

 

Dean let out a relieved breath. It was an inn. He walked up the steps of the establishment, casting an appraising look over its exterior. It was small, but the lodge was undoubtedly well kept; the owner had taken good care of it. The boy raised his fist, meaning to knock, but right at that moment, the door flew open.

 

The prince’s fist connected with something hard, yet undoubtedly human. For the longest time, he stood there, frozen, staring at his hand that had just pounded on some random man’s chest. Then, the tower of muscle starting to vibrate, breaking into a full blown laughter. He raised his blushing face, looking up at his victim. Kind blue eyes stared down at him, crinkled with amusement. The man had close cropped hair, and despite looking older than himself, Dean found him quite attractive. The Omega blushed furiously, unconsciously starting to bear his neck for the obvious Alpha.

 

All of a sudden, the blue eyes darkened. Realizing what he was doing, the Omega froze once more. Fighting his new overwhelming instincts, he straightened and looked the man straight in the eye.

 

“Hey, Caleb! You just gonna stand there or-?” A stocky brunette made her appearance behind the stranger, who also seemed to freeze in place.

 

Panic started to overwhelm him. Had he been discovered already? Their nostrils flared, confirming that they could smell it on him. The alarm, the confusion, the Omega.

 

_Shit._

 

Dean was contemplating making a run for it when the woman seemed to finally break out of her trance.

 

“Um, a customer!” She smiled, reassuringly. “Welcome to my inn. The name’s Ellen.”

 

Following the apparent trend, Dean froze again, doe-eyes wide.

 

“My name… i-it’s Jensen.” He could barely hear himself. That wouldn’t do.

 

“I’m sorry, dear. What was that?”

 

There was something in the boy’s eyes, a look of ferocity, of determination. The adults shivered under the intensity of the Omega’s eyes. This wasn’t just any kid. No normal man held this kind of power… beauty. Perhaps it was the experience of their lifetimes, or maybe it was their instincts, but the two just knew not to interfere. The most beautiful green orbs searched their own. The child seemed to make up his mind.

 

“Jensen Ackles.”

 

A blinding grin colored his features, at first forced but turning genuine with every word.

 

“I’m an adventurer, bard, worker at your disposal. Place your faith in me...”

 

The world held its breath.

  
“For I am a Righteous Man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel seems to have made a place for himself in Dean's heart (finally). The updates are gonna be slow for a bit more, I apologize in advance! I'll try to work on more chapters as much as I can, but with the addition of a sport to my schedule, it would seem that I am booked! I also do not have a Beta, which means I have to be the editor to my own story, which I usually don't mind, but it's a tedious process and I, like I've already stated, I barely have time anymore. This chapter had been written for quite a while, but the revising took me days to get to! I will try my best to pick up the pace from now on!
> 
> Thank you for reading. As always, feedback is much appreciated! <3


	11. Lullaby for the Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proof that I have been writing! The inspiration has come back, it would seem. 
> 
> The problem now, is that I have a lot of idea I want to work on, and not enough time! I have the first chapter of "Creatures of Sin" up, but, embarrassingly enough, I haven't updated it in forever! I have so many more AU's in mind >.

Venom seemed to drain to his very being, tearing into his very soul.

 

Dean screamed, eyes bulging. His face dug into the ground, not noticing the sharp grains of rock that cut into him. Not noticing the nails he dug into his own palms until they bled. Not noticing the wet spot in the front of his trousers. No, the Omega didn’t notice any of that. He only noticed one thing.

 

The blinding, unbearable, white hot pain. He wanted it over. He wanted it gone.

 

_Oh god, oh god. Please, make it stop._

 

The Righteous Man cried, his sobs cut off by gasps brought on by stabs from his treacherous body. His lungs caught fire, begging their owner to breathe. But, Dean couldn’t. It seemed like he was trapped in hell, repenting for who knows what crime. Finally, he drew in a shaky lungful of the cruel, merciless air, only to have it forced out in a scream.

 

It felt like being ripped apart. It felt like being torn from the inside. It felt like punishment for all his hatred, all his envy, all his bitterness.

 

Liquid fire flowed through his veins. Vaguely, he was aware of a figure running towards him, calling out some absurd nonsense.

 

“Jensen!”

 

_Oh, that was his name._

 

Then came darkness, bleeding in through the corners.

 

_Yes, thank God. Thank you._

 

Dean collapsed into unconsciousness, grateful for its escape.

 

He hoped that death would be kind to him.

 

_ _ _

 

**Previously:**

Ellen and Caleb, as they eventually properly introduced themselves as, had welcomed the freckled beauty with open arms. Despite Dean being a stranger and an Omega, the adults seemed to take to him right away. He found himself relaxing in their company; they were obviously good people, it didn’t take a Sam to figure that much out. They weren’t nearly as inquisitive or nosy as the Prince would have expected them to be, so Dean was able to make up his story as they conversed.

 

Jensen Ackles. The name had come to him all too easily, right out of his favorite childhood story. He remembered all those times far too vividly, the times when Mary would kiss his forehead with a smile still on her lips, tucking her forever loose blonde strands behind her ear, and whisper to him a story as if it was the biggest secret in the world. Often, the boy would smile, batting his lashes, and ask him to repeat his favorite story, the one of the “Righteous Man”.

 

She would pout at his obsession but her eyes never lost their loving gleam, and she would crumble, never able to deny her first bundle of joy.

 

“Oh dear, where to start?” She would always say, despite having told this story a hundred times before. The light from his bedside candle would set dramatic shadows across her face, but her eyes never lost their adoring glitter. “His name was Jensen Ackles, the Righteous Man!” Waving her fist in the air, flexing her arms, she would send her son into a giggling frenzy.

 

“Mum-aa,” Dean would playfully whine. “You don’t have muscles!” He’d break out laughing into his mother’s embrace. She would pull him into bed, tickling him until he begged for mercy. They would lay there, but Mary’s voice never quieted, her hands never stilled. Gesticulating dramatically, she would continue on.

 

Dean would quiet, eyes wide in wonder at the story of the Hero from the East. Thinking back, perhaps the story wasn’t so fascinating after all. No... It was all Mary; her comic expressions, her theatrical voices, her unending affection. Yes, it was all his mother.

 

Jensen would run around the country, saving people, hunting things. Carrying on the inherited legacy, the family business. The wayward son of an unjust king, savior of the people, keeper of peace. Not a soul existed, in Heaven or Earth, who could stop him. He was everything Dean had inspired to be.

 

Then one night, the very last, Mary’s voice had dropped even lower. She had cupped her hand over his ear, and asked him to keep a big secret for her.

 

“Rumor has it, you see, that Jensen was actually an Omega!” He gasped. Omegas weren’t heroes; they were the damsels in distress, the lovers locked in towers. But Mary only smiled a small sad smile.

 

“Love, do I look like a fragile little doll to you?” She winked, making her youth grin.

 

“No mum-aa.”

 

“No?”

 

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

 

Then, Dean would fall asleep to the most beautiful voice in the world humming him a tune he would never be able to name. The darkness always approached quickly, just in time for the Prince to hear the only lyrics she would utter. In his comfort, the child would smile, and his mother would kiss him on the forehead and blow out their now-stub of a candle.

 

“Hey Jude…”

 

_ _ _

 

Dean wasn’t aware of when he had fallen asleep. His body loudly requested food, so he dragged himself out of bed groaning. He carded his hand through his short locks. Greasy. He needed food and a bath. Body protesting with every step, the Omega dragged his sore ass downstairs.

He was met with a warm smile.

 

“Look who finally decided to crawl out of bed.” Ellen chided, but her eyes were crinkled at the edges.

 

“And here I was, thinking I’d have to kiss Sleepin’ Beauty awake.” Caleb sighed playfully. “An opportunity I’ll regret missing for the rest of my life!” Ellen seemed to decide that this warranted a smack to the back of the head, and Caleb gave an exaggerated yelp.

 

Dean laughed at their quirky exchanged, not noticing the entranced stares that it drew from everybody in the bar. He settled into a seat next to Caleb easily, and Ellen brought him a mouth-watering breakfast.

 

“Boy, you scared the crap out of us yesterday! We thought you’d collapsed. Never seen somebody drop asleep as soon as taking a seat before.” Ellen shook her head. “Caleb had to carry you up to a bed.”

 

The Omega felt the heat on his neck, informing him of the bright pink flush that was undoubtedly coloring his flesh now. “I’m sorry for troubling you, Caleb.”

 

The Alpha bellowed out a hearty laugh. “It’s fine, kid. Doubt any man would mind havin’ you in his arms.” Another wink, another blush, another whack to the back of the head.

 

It was strange how he felt more at home in the company of these strangers than the castle he had grown up in, his so-called home. Sure, he missed his friends - Anna, Gabriel, Benny, Sammy… Castiel... But he had never actually felt like he belonged there. It felt like he had been confined, a prisoner to his heritage, expectations.

 

The group slipped into a natural conversation, dotted with jokes and laughter. Dean found himself relaxing despite himself. A little voice at the back of his mind reminded him that this was only temporary, that he wouldn’t be here for long. _That’s right._

 

_Don’t get too attached, Jensen._

In the end, he decided to stay for a while. Ellen told him that the inn could use some help since it was the busy season. The income couldn’t hurt, and frankly, he needed the break. Plus, the Lobelia would kick in soon and he didn’t know how long he’d suffer. Hopefully, he could just shut himself in a room and bear it in peace.

 

_ _ _

 

_Looks like the plan hadn’t work out after all._

 

Dean woke up feeling like death. Looking around, he found himself back in his room at the inn. Somebody must have found him… His head throbbed horribly and his throat was parched like sandpaper. He needed water.

 

Struggling out of bed, he somehow brought himself upright on the ground. But, just as he took a step forward, the world seemed to tilt and all of a sudden he was facedown on the floor. A few attempts at trying to get up confirmed his suspicions, he was too weak to walk. Tears stung at the back of his eyes. He’d never been this helpless. Even during his heat...

 

 _Useless Omega bitch_. A too familiar voice barked at him from inside his mind.

 

Panic gripped his heart. How long would he be unable to move; what if this was permanent? No. No. No. _No. No. No._

 

He couldn’t be a cripple! His father would find him and he’d be dragged back, sold to be some noble’s barefoot pregnant bitch. His arms flailed trying to get a grip on something, anything. He pawed at the vase on the bedside table, but the glass slipped through his grasp and shattered on the cold, hard floor. His legs wouldn’t even respond. Shards of glass slid around his limp form.

 

Outside, Jensen stared wide-eyed, stony-faced.

  
Inside, Dean screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But, did Dean actually ever bathe? Tune in next week for the answer! ;)
> 
> I'm slightly pleased with the ending. It was a subtle hint at Dean's state of mind (not too subtle, now that I've pointed it out).  
> The next chapter may just be a Michael chapter, who knows? Honestly, I post these as soon as I finish writing them. I don't like to keep y'all waiting :P.
> 
> Thank you for reading :) Feedback is, as always, much appreciated!


	12. Dreams of the Homeward-bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Kura, who, I feel, has been waiting for Michael just as impatiently as Dean xD.  
> Sorry for the late update (again). My life has been a busy mess! I've been writing when I can, but more and more ideas pop up with not enough time to put them down. It's a real struggle. You'll be getting a new character or two this chapter, hope you like em' ;)
> 
> Well anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Cascaded in shadows, a pair looked down at the quivering man kneeling at the steps leading up to the throne. Piercingly blue, chillingly unfeeling, their eyes were appraising. The King leaned back in his seat, setting his chin on his entwined fingers, smiling a frightening smile. At his side stood his younger brother, the unforgiving Lucifer.

 

“Spare me, my lords! I beg of you! I have a wife and children… Who will care for them if I’m gone?” the noble pleaded, entire body screaming cowardice and submission.

 

Michael sighed, a frown playing at his lips. He gave the grovelling trash at his feet another distasteful look before turning to his brother.

 

“What do you think, Lucifer? Perhaps, we should be forgiving. I am nothing if not a charitable soul.”

 

“Yes, please, my lord!” The scum was speaking out of turn once again.

 

Lucifer hummed, a look of consideration etched across his face as he ran a hand through his short blonde hair. “I wonder about that…”

 

“Quite a difficult decision, truly,” Michael conceded.

 

“One of the hardest I’ve ever faced, brother,” Lucifer supplied with a shake of his head.

 

“Have mercy, I beg of you! Give me a second chance, my lords!” The traitor had a hopeful look in his eyes.

 

The brothers made eye contact, silently agreeing that they had played around long enough. This toy was already getting old.

 

“Very well,” The King’s smile was cruel. “I have decided to free you, Lord Talley.”

 

“Oh my- Thank you, thank you! I won’t let you down, I swear it!” Relief flooded the nobles features.

 

“Oh don’t thank me just yet…” The Elder Collins’ voice lowered. “Lucifer, will you not set this poor man free, already?”

 

“Of course, brother.” Lucifer’s grin was chilling to the bone. “Our trusted comrades will receive nothing less than what they deserve.”

 

“Never call me a dispassionate King.” Michael quipped.

 

“Oh no, never, Your Highness!” The noble was practically crying with happiness.

 

“Now, Lucifer. I believe it’s time to liberate our beloved ally.” With that Michael rised from his throne and made his way out of the room, finally finished with his duties for the day. He ignored the irritating screams and pleas that started behind his departing back. Lucifer would take care of them, free the traitor from this awful world.

 

Picking up his pace, he made his way towards his chambers. It had been an exhausting day, and at the young age of twenty-four, the Alpha tired far too easily. Sometimes, he woke up exhausted, dreading the day ahead of him. His affinity towards ruling and his love for his country seemed to do nothing to change the fact that he felt empty, _unfulfilled_. Something was missing from his life… A gorgeous, green-eyed _something_ that undoubtedly hated him by now.

 

His plans, however, were interrupted in the form of a very impatient looking black haired beauty outside his entrance. Meg glared at her brother, huffing at his scrunched up face.

 

“You’re back already?” The King asked acting annoyed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

“Oh, shut your mouth, Michael.” She rolled her dark eyes, contrasting with her brother’s shocking blue.

 

The older Alpha laughed, pulling his sister into a loving hug. “How was your trip? I missed you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” She smirked devilishly. “It was absolutely awful. You know I don’t do dances.”

 

Michael’s features arranged themselves in a sympathetic look. He knew very well that Meg hated dances, but they were diplomatic events, and he didn’t really have a choice in sending his younger siblings off to perform their duties as royalty. He sighed. It wasn’t the life the Princess wanted for herself, or the life that Michael wanted for her, but it was the life they were born into, and there was no escaping their duties.

 

Meg gave him her renowned eye roll. “Yes, I know, I know, but I’m still allowed to complain about it. I mean, Samandriel doesn’t have to go to balls since he’s a male! It’s unfair…” She pouted.

 

“I know...” They’d had this conversation before.

 

“I’m still an Alpha, ya’ know.” Her eyes flashed blood red, further proving her point.

 

“I’m sorry, Meggy, I really am.” The younger Collins groaned towards the heavens at his use of her old nickname, drawing a grin out of her brother.

 

“Michael, I swear to God. If you don’t-”

 

Laughing, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Yes, yes. You’re a big bad Alpha now, got it!” It was times like this that the King felt a bit more complete, surrounded by his wonderful siblings, laughing and joking. Yes, he wasn’t empty at all. It was all just a figment of his imagination.

 

“Damn it, Mikey!” He winced at her retaliation and this time, it was her turn to laugh. “I even had news for you, but never mind now.” She crossed her arms and looked away, looking incredibly smug.

 

Michael caved. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. What is it?”

 

The princess looked conflicted on whether or not to draw out his punishment which grabbed his attention. Usually, his sister would have tortured him with it before even thinking about releasing her hold on him. Michael was curious by nature and never took well to his sister’s habit. Must be something important. Finally, she relented with a sigh.

 

“It’s about Dean.” His blood ran cold. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so complete after all.

 

Dean. Surely, not his Dean. They didn’t talk about his Dean. Dean was a taboo subject; that had been established pretty firmly with the fits, arguments, and blatant screaming on his part.

 

“Come back to me, Michael.” Something whacked him on the chest, drawing his attention back to the conversation. To the conversation he would rather not have. Meg gave a frustrated sigh, but her eyes with soft and sympathetic. “Do you wanna hear it or not?” Her eyebrow raised, waiting patiently for his answer.

 

Did he? No, no. He really did not want to talk or think about Dean. Dean was too bright, it burned his eyes, cut through his mind. Hearing about the prince of Winchester would only be painful for him.

 

 _No._ “Yes.” _You are a dumbass._

 

“Uh…” The princess actually looked surprised, as if she hadn’t actually expected that answer. He didn’t blame her. “Are you sure?”

 

 _No._ “Yes.” _Definitely not._ “Please.” _Stop!_ “Tell me now.” _ShitShitShit._

 

“Uh…” Meg looked slightly scared at his begging. “Yeah, uh Dean. So, rumor has it that he finally presented. Apparently, it was a bit weird.”

 

Michael’s heart fell. His prince had finally presented, putting just more distance between the two.

 

“Oh?” He distractedly tried to keep the conversation going, barely hearing his sister as she rambled on. Something about scents, betas, heats, unrest...

 

“Wait, _what_?” Michael’s eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

 

His sister let out an impatient noise. “I said, even the Betas were affected by his heat! It’s unheard of! What-”

 

“Heat?” Michael’s heart threatened to give out, beating faster than it had in the past eight years.

 

Meg’s eyes widened in understanding. The grin that took over her face reached her eyes. “Yes, Mikey. It would seem that your little Dean is a hot piece of Omega ass.”

 

He had to remind himself to breathe. For some reason, his brain seemed to blow a fuse, completely shutting down. Because it wasn’t _possible_. His mind could not wrap itself around the fact, he couldn’t _comprehend_ it.

 

“Also, he ran away from home.” _There it was, the catch._

 

“How the fuck-?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“He’s an unmated fucking Omega in heat for god’s sake!”

 

“They’re not releasing any information to the public just yet.” Michael must have looked like he was about to snap because Meg immediately started comforting him. “Don’t worry! I’ll pull a few strings and get back to you on it.”  
  


The older Alpha sighed tiredly. “Thank you, Meg…” He went for a reassuring smile but it came out as a sort of grimace, so he just stopped trying. There was no denying it; He was absolutely worried, he was unbelievably upset, he was positively miserable.

 

“I think I’m going to retire for tonight…” His sister must have noticed the change in his mood and gave him an affectionate look before shrugging and leaving. Everybody knew it was better to just leave the King alone to sort his own feelings out when he was in one of these moods.

 

Completely spent, he entered his chambers and collapsed on his bed, taking in the entirety of the situation, until he realized that he _couldn’t_. It refused to sink in. The future was harsh, painful to just think about. So, he didn’t. Instead, his mind wandered to the equally devastating past.

 

His journey, his departure, his love, his broken promise… They all flooded back to him. Suddenly, he was faced with everything he had tried to avoid.

 

He thought back to Dean, all their time together. It had been short lived, but Michael had fallen so fast and hard. The boy had taken completely over his mind until nothing else could sate him, nothing that could satisfy him. This proved to be quite the problem when he had to leave. His departure had been marked with the promise of return, a promise he had fully intended to keep and Dean had believed him to stand by.

 

But not under John’s watch. The King of Winchester had kept the pair under a watchful eye and had decided that Dean no longer required the company of the heir of Collins. His reasoning being that two Alphas weren’t meant to act that “friendly”. In fact, if Michael so much as stepped in the same room as his son again, he threatened to go to full blown war with them. Dean never found out about it; Michael had no way of telling him. Still, he had continued to fight, arguing with John, even begging.

 

Later, his parents both passed away in the plague and Michael had to step up to the plate at the age of Eighteen. Unrest resonated throughout the kingdom as everybody seemed to question whether he was capable. With an iron fist, he quickly crushed any doubts, leading the country to it’s “Golden Age”, as the philosophers seemed to refer to it. It had been years since he’d seen Dean, and finally, he gave up. Taking on his duty, he tried desperately to forget the freckled beauty that seemed to haunt him, whether dreaming or in wake.

 

He’d failed his love. The Runaway Omega must have hated him for being so weak, a liar. Perhaps, if he was lucky, Dean had already forgotten him. The thought stabbed at his heart. _Maybe not._

 

He decided that being hated was better than being forgotten. At the very least, maybe the Prince sometimes thought of him offhandedly, spared him a passing moment of attention. That would be enough for him. His heart gave another painful blow and, again, he relented. _Not enough._

No, it wasn’t enough, but he didn’t deserve Dean. The beautiful, amazing, smart, charming, caring Dean… Michael was beneath him.

 

The Dean that had promised to wait for him.

 

The Michael who had failed to return.

 

Slowly, he allowed himself to drift into the blissful void, empty of guilt. In the darkness of his mind, he wandered until he found his light. A boy sat in the corner of a library, nose in book, attentive posture and expressive orbs green as the glades. The King knocked softly on a bookshelf, causing the boy to snap up, meeting his deep-ocean blues with forests and golds that promised an adventure. As always, Michael’s breath caught in his throat. Dean smiled at him, lighting up the room with his impossible honeyed vibrancy. The older man swallowed.

 

“I’m back, my love...”

 

Thus, he wrapped in daisied arms, encased in warmth and the distant smell of a promising home.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

He weeped into the dusty-gold locks of a boy who didn’t seem to mind, wondering if he was too late.

  
Wondering if his prince had waited...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that this fic is getting a bit too angsty. I need to sneak some humor in here somehow... I will work on it! The next update will, again, probably not be for a while. I'm so sorry about it but my schedule is just insane. Hopefully, you enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Make sure to leave feedback! :D It's what I live for!


End file.
